


four pm

by lorene



Series: four pm [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, Angst and Feels, Depression, Emotionally Immature, M/M, Mental Instability, Schizophrenia, taylor's just tryin his best, this is good I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8295002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorene/pseuds/lorene
Summary: It was hard for him to understand why it took Beau longer than it would a normal person to comprehend a simple question. Or why he heard voices inside his head or why he constantly thought he was being watched but- Beau couldn't help any of those things. Schizophrenia wasn't Beau. It was just an unfortunate part of him. Taylor still wanted to be with him regardless because he didn't fall in love with Schizophrenia.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so lets see...i started writing this at about 3 pm today and its now 3 am when im posting it...nice
> 
> Anyway, I am really fascinated with Schizophrenia- i dont have it nor do i know anyone that does so if i got any information wrong or off, please feel free to let me know! BTW the type that Beau is- is more of a Disorganized Schizophrenic more than anything. You'll see once you read some of the things Beau says and how he acts and shit.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> http://www.gomentor.com/articles/schizophrenia.aspx

“Years ago, I didn't have to worry about that thing. I was one less _crazy_ , one less _paranoid_.”

  
“What are you doing?” Taylor asked.

  
“I’m making sure the neighbors across the street, they’re not still watching us.” Beau muttered lowly.

  
Despite them being the same age, Beau was just a kid. He was a kid that was dealt an unfair deck of cards. Taylor often wondered what his life would've turned out like if he’d left a long time ago.

  
He thought about if whether or not he would have went on to pursue a career in Medicine like he’d always wanted to, or if he would have eventually settled down with a nice girl in a brand new house in the suburbs like his parents always wanted. There were times where he wishes he would have done it because he thinks his life would have turned out a lot easier. Maybe he would have been happier.

 

  
Taylor watched Beau peel back the sheet that they’d hung up as a curtain for the front window because they couldn't afford nice curtains. He tried to ignore the pile of dirty plates in the sink from the past week.

  
“Are they?”

  
Beau looked at him over his shoulder, biting his lip, “I'm not sure, it feels like it. I'm just trying to breath quietly because-” He paused for a moment and Taylor waited. “I don't want them to hear me.”

  
No matter how many times Taylor assured him there was no one watching him, no one following him or listening to him breath, Beau would never be able to believe him.

  
***

  
Being in a relationship with someone who was Schizophrenic was basically being their caregiver. It was so fucking frustrating. It got lonely and depressing at times. The overwhelming amount of guilt he felt watching Beau struggle with simple day to day things was too much for him to handle and that when he thought about what would have happened if he left.

  
Beau was a huge task and things were tough for them.

  
They didn't have a lot of money just living off of Taylor’s salary as a manager at a department store or whatever check his parents could send him that month. Beau wasn't working at the moment because he couldn't seem to keep a job for more than than two months. His last job was really the only thing he could do and that was bag groceries and make minimum wage. After this last job, they decided it was just best for Beau to stay home and get on Disability.

  
Taylor thinks he would be more okay with Beau staying home if he was able to clean and have dinner on the table when he gets home, but due to his lack of ability to concentrate for more than a few minutes, he couldn't do that.

  
Most days, Beau did nothing anyways but work on his art- which was one of the few things he took seriously. And a couple times a week, his sister would come over for a few hours to keep him company and cook for him so he wasn't alone all day. Sometimes, she takes him along to run errands and that's good for Beau but it doesn't happen too often because he doesn't like going to town. It was hard for him to be in public because of his mood swings, sometimes he threw fits of rage for no reason. Although, that didn't happen much anymore.

  
His constant paranoia that people were watching him or trying to read his mind and hurt him didn't exactly help either.

  
However, Taylor could still bring Beau around his parents without any issue since he was used to them by now. Beau got very anxious around them though because he was convinced his parents didn't like him due to his illness, which wasn't all _total bullshit_. Taylor’s parents were just the kind of people that didn't understand mental illness. Even before Beau’s diagnosis, they were weird about him. To this day, Taylor still isn't completely sure if it's the gay thing or not.

 

  
Beau did tend to come off rude and uninterested, that wasn't his fault though, he was just socially awkward. He didn't know how to be around people for a long time that wasn't Taylor or his own immediate family.

  
Taylor didn't think that bothered Beau too much, he was very careless with a lot of things. So careless that Taylor often had to remind him when to bathe and shave. There probably wasn't that many 25 year olds who had to sit in the bathroom with their significant other while they showered because they were too paranoid and scared to be in there by themselves. Beau once told him there were orbs hovering over him that were tiny little satellites the government used to spy on him in the shower.

  
They slept with the lights on every night, because Beau was afraid of the dark. Even in a fully lit room, Beau had a hard time falling asleep and when Taylor checked under the bed in front of him to prove that there was nothing there, Beau usually slept 10 or 12 hours every night. To which Taylor was both jealous of and grateful for.

  
It used to be worse, when they were younger. Taylor had to remind himself of that. It used to all be a lot worse.

  
Once Beau was 18, he stopped taking his antipsychotics and now at 24, Beau still doesn't take them because he thinks he’s able to handle his Schizophrenia now. Taylor can’t force him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

  
The nightmares still happened though. There was one particular recurring nightmare that really freaked Beau out, and caused the whole sleeping with the lights on thing. Beau described it as him walking around their house and a man who- he thought was one of his voices in human form- would pop out of walls screaming about how he would never escape. It scared Taylor too, that Beau had to experience that and he would stay up late just in case he woke up and needed comfort.

  
***

  
It wasn't always bad.

  
Beau did have good days and Taylor remembered why he was still here on these kinds of days.

  
It was Saturday morning and Taylor was awake but pretending to be asleep. He didn't have to work on the weekends so this was the time to lounge around in bed, and if he dozed off again, it wouldn't matter because there was no where he needed to be. Beau was talking to himself, quietly conversing with the imaginary voices inside his head. Often, Taylor couldn't stand to hear it because it was upsetting.

  
“On April 40th?”

  
However, there were also times like right now where it felt like it was okay to listen.

  
“Write the letter down? I didn't even _pay_ for it!”

  
Beau couldn't help it. Taylor couldn't always punish him for something he couldn't help.

  
“Taylor?”

  
“Hmm.”

  
“ _Taylor_.”

  
He flopped onto his back, to show that he was awake but kept his eyes closed because he wasn't ready to face the morning light. “Beau.”

  
Taylor felt the mattress dip next to him, and a warm palm running over lightly up and down his bicep. It took a minute for Beau to continue what he was going to say and Taylor waited. “Are you up?”

  
“Yeah, I'm up.”

  
“Can we go out today?”

  
This meant if Taylor had any errands to run. Sometimes Beau actually wanted to go outside and help Taylor do things. He liked being able to help when he could.

  
Taylor squinted his eyes open, Beau’s focus was fixed on the light blonde hair on his arms as if he hadn't seen it there before. “If you feel up to it, then yeah.”

  
Beau seemed to light up, smiling cutely at him and he went to throw the covers off of them but stopped suddenly, looking sort of shy.

  
“You okay?” Taylor asked.

  
Beau twisted back and kissed his cheek with a loud smack. “I have to get orange juice now.” and he padded off to the kitchen.

  
Taylor liked when Beau kissed him first, usually he was the one to initiate all the physical intimacy in their relationship. Not that Beau was completely uninterested in sex, he just usually needed a gentle reminder that it was something they did.

  
He liked to think they had a average sex life, for the most part. Sure, Beau asking him to slow down because there were shadows on the ceiling and he had to tell them to go away wasn't all that average but as long as he got to finish, it didn't bother him.

  
As far as having an intimate relationship with a Schizophrenic person, the only thing that irked him was when Beau went through his weird insecure days and didn't want to be touched. Of course, it would frustrate anyone, but sex felt like the last link they still had to a normal relationship and Taylor _couldn't lose_ that aspect of it.

  
“I hate the government satellites!” Beau shouted from the bathroom and that reminded Taylor he needed to get out of bed.

  
He opened the door to an already foggy bathroom, taking his sweats off before shoving aside their yellowing shower curtain and stepping in. Beau was standing directly under the water with his shirt on, now a dark grey colour from being soaked. “What the _fuck_ , take your shirt off.” Taylor exasperated to him.

  
He wished his tone hadn’t come out as harsh as it did. It wasn't that big a deal, it’s just things like this reminded Taylor that he couldn’t leave, because Beau couldn't be alone.

  
“Sorry.” Beau said. “Please don't be mad.” And he tossed the wet shirt out, it made a loud flopping sound when it hit the floor. He didn't even wring it out.

  
“I’m not mad, c’mere.” Taylor muttered softly and he reached for the shampoo, squeezing some into his palm.

  
Beau liked when they showered together. He once told Taylor that it was comforting to have a physical presence of someone he trusted the most in the place where the voices spoke to him the most.

  
Beau was now gripping his elbow with one hand and the other holding onto his hip as Taylor washed his hair for him. He tilted his head back under the running stream with a deep breath and when he was all finished, Taylor let him return the favor.

  
***

  
“We have to go check the mail before we go grocery shopping, okay?”

  
Taylor was pulling a loose hoodie over his head when Beau sauntered out of the bedroom, wearing a tanktop that wasn't even pushed down all the way and cargo shorts. It was raining outside. “Go change, you can’t wear that.”

  
Beau stalled. He stared at Taylor like he didn't understand. Then his expression changed into a fake, charming smile and twirled on his heels, like a child does when they get caught doing something wrong and attempts to level with an adult. “Beau, it’s raining pretty hard outside. You’ll get sick and I don’t want that.”

  
“We’re not going to the Wal-Mart on 10th street right? You know we can’t go there.” Beau expressed with a worried look. _Yes, he knew_. He knew that Beau was convinced the Wal-Mart on 10th puts baby frogs in all their canned food. He said that the voice that told him so, was an ex government official so they would know these things.

  
Taylor gave him a stern look, because sometimes he had to be strict with Beau. Beau didn't always listen. “Go change now or we’re not going at all.”

  
Beau stomped his foot, turning away dramatically, “Fine, I hate you.”

  
That wasn’t the first time Taylor’s heard that. Beau would throw that around so nonchalantly, he knew there was no meaning behind it. It was just words.

  
After a few seconds of drawers slamming and feet stomping around, Beau came back out now clad in jeans and a sweatshirt. He was still wearing sandals and Taylor knew that wasn't going to change. He grabbed the umbrella and keys off the counter and they left.

  
Grocery shopping wasn't that difficult with Beau. His only job was to push the cart, that was easy enough to handle. They did have to bring in the gloves Taylor always kept in his car because Beau was afraid the handle would burn him. Every so often, Beau would space out because he was focused on whatever he was hearing at the moment or hallucinating orbs but he _wasn't hurting anyone_ so Taylor let him lead the way, directing him where to go while he put things in the cart.

  
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Taylor asked him, as they walked through the produce section.

  
“I like these.” Beau pointed to a crate a strawberries. He picked them up, to look at them closer and then made a grimace. “ _God_ , don't people wash these off?”

  
Taylor looked at the strawberries. They were healthy looking, deep red and fully ripe. “Beau, just put them down.”

  
“ _Ugh, cockroaches_.”

  
A man walked past them, giving Beau a weird look that thankfully he didn't notice and that's when Taylor plucked the strawberries out of his hands and set them back.

  
They were almost done shopping and Taylor was trying to decide what kind of hamburger helper to get when Beau came around the cart to stand next to him, pulling his arm so that he could hug it against his chest.

  
“I don't like her.” Beau was staring intently at an elder lady, who was all the way down at the other end of the aisle.

  
Taylor told him. “We’re almost done.”

  
Beau took a shaky breath, tugging Taylor closer so he could whisper in his ear. “I don't like how she’s trying to control me. It’s scaring me.”

  
Taylor held up two different hamburger helper boxes, “Which one do you like again?”

  
“That one.” He knocked a finger to the stroganoff one.

  
Taylor threw a couple boxes of it into the cart and spun it around. “Don’t keep staring like that when we walk past her, okay?”

  
Beau shot him a blithe look, slowly pushing the cart down the aisle. He wasn't staring as rudely anymore but when they past her, Beau made a loud, crude sound that made both Taylor and the poor lady jump.

  
She didn't turn around to look at them, Taylor was glad for that. “Why did you do that?” he chastised.

  
“I just hate how she’s always talking about me. Especially during the summertime, when the weathers nice. They always call me about it…”

  
He could tell Beau was starting to get anxious, when they were checking out, so Taylor tried to make it as fast as possible. It was still raining when they were leaving the store. Beau held the umbrella over them as they speed walked back to the car. Quickly, they put the grocery bags in the trunk and got in.

  
“Can we get out of here, I think someone’s trying to shoot me.”

  
Taylor put the gear in reverse and backed out carefully. As much as he wanted to tell Beau that no one was trying to shoot him, he kept his mouth shut.

  
Beau was now quiet, gazing out the window. His hands were in his lap, clutching a candy bar that he begged for last minute. “How are you doing?” Taylor asked.

  
The rain was coming down pretty hard now, and the raindrops pattering against the glass seemed piercing in his ears. Beau didn't answer, seemingly distracted. Nothing new.

  
“Hey.”

  
Beau jolted with a sudden burst of energy. “ _What_?! God, you always ask me that.”

  
Keeping his own voice calm, Taylor repeated himself. “I just asked how you’re doing.”

  
It took Beau a while to answer him, until he was back to just being content. “I'm alright, I just keep thinking someone's in the backseat-” He paused, and Taylor waited.

  
“I swear I’m not making it up.” And- that one wasn't for him. Taylor reached over to rub his thigh, soothingly. “It’s okay, Beau. Relax.”

  
He was staring the side of Taylor’s face now, in that unblinking, focused way. “Can we get coffee? I’ve been good today, right? You’re not mad at me?”

  
“I’m not mad at you.” Taylor assured.

  
Because they couldn't go inside restaurants and coffee shops, Taylor pulled into a Starbucks drive thru. Beau loved their green tea lattes, that was all he drank when they came here, which wasn't too often anymore because it got expensive.

  
The window sill was now drenched after ordering and he used his sleeve to wipe up the water once the window was rolled back up. Taylor looked at Beau. He was munching on his candy bar now, chewing lazily and noisily.

  
“There’s a new lady. She always telling me how warm I am.” Beau said, “But she doesn't like when I smoke. She says we’ll both die from it. That makes me sad.”

  
Taylor fought the urge to roll his eyes. Even the voices in Beau’s head were telling him cigarettes kill. He pretty much heard it from everybody else in the world, he sure as hell didn't need to hear it from _them_. Still, he hummed along and watched Beau finished his chocolate. “You’re not naming them still, right?”

  
Awhile back, Beau named a voice- a voice that had been around for a long time, so maybe he thought that made it okay. It seemed to open a door for other voices to come through with more names and personalities. Taylor remembers how Beau confided in him that he was uncomfortable with it. It started to upset him a lot.

  
It had also upset Taylor because he didn't want Beau getting any more confused that he already generally was, or god forbid getting attached to any of them.

  
Since Beau stopped naming or accepting names, most of those voices seemed to diminish. “No.” he answered.

  
From what he had told Taylor in the past, most of the voices he heard were neutral, not particularly angry or nice- just there, telling him things.

  
When they got home, Taylor put the groceries away while Beau went to have a cigarette on the front porch.

  
He could watch Beau out the kitchen window, leaning on the railing and watching the rainfall. He seemed to enjoy the rain.

  
Taylor wanted to join him for a smoke but Beau probably wanted to be alone after spending the entire day with him. Beau liked his alone time.

  
He didn't need Taylor every second of the day, but he needed him.

  
Taylor _couldn't_ leave.

  
If Taylor left, there would be no one to remind him of when to get out of bed and shower, no one to comfort him when he wakes up from a bad dream, no one to be there when he simply _needed it_.

  
Beau wouldn't know what to do with himself. He would be confused, messy, self destructive and would have to move back in with his parents. They would probably force him back on the medication he refused because it gave him a dry mouth and Beau said he didn't want to _swallow his tongue_ on accident.

  
Taylor thinks there’s something deeper to that, he thinks Beau doesn't want to have to rely on antipsychotics to make him feel like he’s still a functioning person part of society. Beau knows he’s sick and doesn't have any motivation to control his disease. Taylor is okay with that.

  
Leaving was an unattainable notion. It felt cruel to even think about it as much as he did.

  
Taylor used to never give mental illness any thought, because he didn't have to. He never imagined that a few years down the line, it would be the center of his world. A lonely one, at that.

  
While it was impossible for Beau to live in the moment, Taylor very much did.

  
Beau lived in a state of ongoing mental and emotional instability and Taylor didn't.

  
It was hard for him to understand why it took Beau longer than it would a normal person to comprehend a simple question. Or why he heard voices inside his head or why he constantly thought he was being watched but- Beau couldn't help any of those things.

  
Schizophrenia wasn't Beau. It was just an unfortunate part of him. Taylor still wanted to be with him regardless because he didn't fall in love with Schizophrenia.

  
“Taylor?”

  
“I’m right here.” he called back. Beau dragged his feet into the kitchen, his left hand twitching at his side. He pulled out a new carton of orange juice, twisting the cap off. Taylor watched him lift the cartoon up to his lips, taking a small sip. “I-I think I can concentrate now.”

  
“Do you want to help me start dinner?” Taylor asked him.

  
“But…” Beau paused for a moment, setting the juice down and scratching at an old coffee stain on the counter.

  
“Or do you want to sit in here while I cook?” Taylor prodded, reminding him that he was being spoken to.

  
Beau’s attention focused back on him. He stepped closer to Taylor, forgetting about the still uncapped orange juice. “I- can you watch a movie with me? We can do that.”

  
Beau liked black and white movies, simple stuff with not a lot of plot or conflict to follow. “We can, after. I'm gonna make us something to eat right now.”

  
So he sat at the table while Taylor cooked and every few minutes would come over and help stir the hamburger helper in the pan, or rearrange the magnets on the fridge just one more time.

  
“Taylor?”

  
“Hmm?”

  
“I was good today, right? You're not mad?”

  
“Not mad, Beau.”

  
When he set his plate down, Taylor leaned down to kiss the top of Beau’s head, because he could and because this wasn't always bad. “Love you.”

  
Beau stared at him, unblinking because he didn't really do that a lot. “Yeah. ”

  
And that was okay, Beau didn't always have to say it back for Taylor to know and neither did he.

  
His arm jerked out randomly, almost clipping Taylor in the chest but that was also okay because Beau couldn't control it sometimes.

  
Taylor leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips. The strong taste of nicotine was making his mouth water and he pulled away to go have a cigarette himself.

  
It was now probably around four pm, the rain had let up and painted the world surrounding them grey and Taylor wasn't thinking about leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely, there must've been a part of Beau, deep down inside that felt remorseful. Or maybe he didn't- maybe Beau didn't realize that Taylor had given up a lot in his life to be with him. To be here taking care of him every day, listening to every word that came out of his mouth, being here to talk with him about anything he felt like, loving and accepting him for the way he was.
> 
>  
> 
> Not only because Beau was his partner, but his friend. Beau was the first thing he thought about each morning and the last thing he thought about every night. He was simply the most important person in Taylor’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there might be one more chapter fyi 
> 
> just one more bc i honestly love writing this AU

Taylor was watching Beau draw in his sketchbook. Beau was an amazing artist. He drew portraits mostly. Some of the faces Taylor recognized as family members or people he saw on TV and occasionally his own face. Beau didn't show him the sketches he did of him, liked to keep those private for some reason and Taylor couldn't help it if he sometimes looks through them while Beau was asleep.

  
He like seeing what went on in Beau’s head on paper. The visuals he didn't tell Taylor about. He knew more about the voices more than what Beau actually saw through his eyes.

  
Other sketches were of faces he didn't recognize. Incomprehensible scratches of words that turned into confusing paragraphs. Various shapes with steady lines and curves shooting out of them. There were a lot of all seeing eyes and tiny figures hiding in the darkest corners of the pages that you would miss unless you really looked.

  
Beau set his pencil down to lean back and analyze what he’s done so far. Right now, he was drawing a unknown man with cysts of anger and energy shocks growing out of his face. He seemed pleased with his work and ran his hand over the paper, smoothing it out a few times.

  
The schizophrenia was unpredictable. Beau went through episodes of severe depression, which usually lasted up to a few weeks then he just seemed to snap out of it, going back to his usual self like nothing happened.

  
During these times he became very agitated and even more introverted than usual, shutting himself out completely. At the same time, he didn't want to be left alone because of his paranoia. So it was generally pretty quiet between them and all Taylor could do is wait.

  
The worst thing about these episodes was all the clinginess and Beau’s already petty, childlike behavior increased. Like this morning when Taylor got up for work.

  
Beau had already been awake, his head shoved under his pillows and a permanent dent in between his eyebrows from glowering all morning. Taylor could barely even go to the bathroom without Beau freaking out. And when he started getting ready for work, Beau threw a fit- shrieking manically and crying because he didn't want Taylor to leave.

  
Beau was convinced someone was always there, one step behind them, just waiting to harm them and no matter what Taylor said or did, Beau couldn't believe him.

  
This lasted all morning until Taylor finally gave in and called in sick. He hated when Beau got like this and didn't feel guilty for needing to be away for his own sanity.

  
Of out nowhere, Beau chucked his sketchbook at the bedroom door. Loose pages flew out of the binds and scattered all over the floor. The pencil he was using made a loud clicking sound as it bounced sharpy off the wall and landed next to the sketchbook on the floor. “ _Hey_.” Taylor warned.

  
Beau sighed harshly and flopped down on the bare mattress. The sheets were currently being washed due to him purposely dumping coffee all over them the first time Taylor told him no, _he can not stay home today_.

  
Either, Beau truly didn't care or he truly thought that was an an acceptable thing to do. Most likely a little bit of both. And it already being a rough morning for them, Taylor sort of flipped out on him. He’s only human and can only take so much of Beau’s random outbursts before it gets to him.

  
Beau had been genuinely shocked for a stuttering moment because Taylor never loses his cool like that.

_  
“Stop playing the illness card as an excuse to act like a fucking child or else I’m really fucking leaving and you’ll be alone all day. Jesus Christ, you fucking know better.”_

  
He had never said anything like that before and the look on Beau’s face when he said that- Taylor couldn't believe he actually said it either.

  
They both had apologized to each other. Taylor wasn't expecting an _I'm_ _sorry_ but maybe he wasn't giving Beau enough credit.

  
After, Beau got very silent and turned his focus on drawing. It kept him out of his head, right now he needed that.

  
Resting his head in Taylor’s lap, Beau curled in on himself tightly. “I’m not saying I’m not happy but I would like to be dead.”

  
“Don’t talk like that.” Taylor told him.

  
“I wouldn't feel this way if I wasn't fucking crazy.” Beau sounded a little hysterical, like he was on the verge of bursting out in laughter. “ _I want to fucking die_.” His voice echoed throughout the room, ricocheting off the walls and back to Taylor's eardrums.

  
Taylor didn't want to think about Beau wishing death upon himself so he decided not to comment on it and instead switched the channel to the news. Not that he was really paying attention to the TV or anything. Taylor petted his hair. Beau hasn't showered in a few days, so his hair was greasy and matted down to his skull.

  
“It’s okay. Try to relax, ‘m not going anywhere.”

  
Beau melted pliantly under Taylor’s touch and closed his eyes. He hasn't been eating very much this past week so his cheeks looked a little sunken in, his eyelids a glossy, dull hue and the lines on Beau’s face were deeply etched into his skin. Somehow he still looked so peaceful and as odd as it sounds, it felt like Beau was the closest to normal he would ever get to again.

  
When he was like this, quiet and completely lax in Taylor’s lap, breathing evenly and calmly. When he wasn't looking out the window every five minutes to make sure no one was watching them, or telling Taylor about how much he wants to die.

  
Taylor hitched him up from under his arms, so that Beau was splayed half on top of him and half beside him. Beau whined from being moved, a close mouthed gurgle from his throat and Taylor pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Shh, you’re fine.”

  
\---

  
When Beau woke up again, a couple of hours later, the first thing he said was, “I had a dream about you.”

  
Taylor had dozed off a little himself but jolted awake at the sound of his voice. He opened his eyes only to find Beau an inch away from his face, staring. The TV was turned off.

  
“Yeah?” Taylor sat up a bit, straightening his torso. He had a crick in his neck from the way he’d been slouched over for so long. It was going to bother him all night but as long as Beau was comfortable.

  
“It was...” Beau trailed off, squinting his eyes like he was trying to concentrate. Taylor waited.

  
His eyes wandered around the room before staring back at Taylor, dazedly. “Me and you. I wasn't sick, I wasn't crazy and it was fine. I just-” Beau’s voice choked up like he was going to start crying. “I miss it, hate me like this.”

  
Taylor sucked in a much needed breath. It stung. Beau didn't talk about the past much. He talked about it as much as Taylor allowed himself think about it.

  
Surely, there must've been a part of Beau, deep down inside that felt remorseful. Or maybe he didn't- maybe Beau didn't realize that Taylor had given up a lot in his life to be with him. To be here taking care of him every day, listening to every word that came out of his mouth, being here to talk with him about anything he felt like, loving and accepting him for the way he was.

  
Not only because Beau was his partner, but his friend. Beau was the first thing he thought about each morning and the last thing he thought about every night. He was simply the most important person in Taylor’s life.

  
If- if Taylor ever left him, Beau would never be able to find anyone else. He was sure Beau wouldn't even want to. If it wasn't for him, there wouldn't even be any interest for a romantic relationship.

  
Taylor knew that Beau loved him. Even if he couldn't always show it in return or tell him. Sometimes he could though, and that’s how he knew.

  
“I’m sorry, Beau.” Taylor muttered softly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

  
Beau stared down at his hands for a long time. They were shaking a bit. “Can you make me something to eat now?”

  
Taylor ran a hand through his dirty blond tresses, the grease thick in his roots, then he gently traced his thin eyebrow with his thumb. “Of course.”

  
“Cold.” Beau whispered. With a heavy heart, he nudged Beau to the side so he could get up. Taylor wrapped one of their blankets around his shoulders, and kissed his temple.

 

 

  
They went into the kitchen and Beau sat down at their rickety table. One of the legs was shorter than the rest on the table, so there was an ratty outdated magazine under it to help level it out. That had been Beau’s idea.

  
It was chilly inside the house, they should have been used to it by now because they didn't have heating. “I have to go to work tomorrow, Beau. You know we can't afford me taking days off.”

  
Beau didn't say anything, he was staring at a crack in the wall. Taylor wasn't even sure if he heard. He repeated himself.

  
“Huh?”

  
“I was talking to you.” Taylor said.

  
Beau gazed at him, absent mindedly. He was losing focus again. “I-...” there was a pause. “...sorry can you repeat that?”

  
“I said I was talking to you.”

  
Beau’s eyes flickered over to him and he opened his mouth only to close it again quickly, shaking his head and cradling his face with his hands. “I can’t _fucking_ \- it’s so loud today.”

  
Taylor went back to buttering a couple slices of bread. Beau was whispering, incomprehensibly. He put the bread in the toaster oven and stood there for a second, closing his eyes. There was a dull stab of pain right behind his eye socket, where a headache was coming on. “Taylor?”

  
“What.” he answered.

  
“You’re not mad at me, right?” Beau’s voice sounded so small, genuine. Taylor turned around to look at him, hunched over and he was wide eyed, docile looking. “I’m not mad.”

  
“I feel really confused right now.”

  
“I know. It’s alright. Try to relax.” Taylor said. He wondered if he should try calling Beau’s sister to see if she could come over tomorrow. Although, it was Wednesday tomorrow and she never came on Wednesdays, only Mondays and Thursdays due to what her schedule allowed. Maybe he could try his mom because he was getting a little desperate.

_  
“Shut the fuck up!”_

  
He considered contacting Beau’s doctor to see if he can get some medication. Just to mellow him out a little until he snaps out of this episode. It couldn't hurt, but it was  
very likely Beau wouldn't want to. He didn't like seeing his doctor. Said he was too suspicious looking. No matter how many times Taylor told him his doctor wasn't going to hurt him, Beau couldn't be convinced.

  
“I’m gonna go have a smoke. Be right back.” Taylor said quickly, reaching for the closest pack of Marlboros he could spot.

  
“Wait! Don't, I can't be alone.” Beau exclaimed and rushed to the window to check outside before going to open the door.

  
Taylor patted his pockets for a lighter. “There’s no one out here.” he assured. Beau handed him one, a black one because he was afraid of the white ones and he went to cup his hand like he was going to light it up for him.

  
Taylor yanked his head back, taking the lighter from him. It’s not like he didn't trust Beau with lighters or anything, obviously he used them alot himself but during a particularly bad day like this, he just wanted Beau to be extra safe. “I’ll do it, I don't want you to burn yourself.”

  
Beau started laughing and sat down on the top stair. “I could burn these different hands. It's not like I’ll feel it.”

  
“What are you talking about?” Taylor asked and Beau ignored him. It was frequent enough that Beau said random things like that and usually Taylor just went with it.

  
Even before the Schizophrenia creeped up on them, Beau had always been a weird dude. He was always saying weird things that took people a minute to process then look back at him saying, “ _Wait what_?” and Beau would just smile because he thought it was funny. He’d always had a great sense of humor. Beau was always in on the joke that no one else was apart of and that’s what made him stand out.

  
That was one of the many ways Beau was never like anyone else. Over the years, it turned into one of the things Taylor has grown to miss the most.

  
Inhaling made him feel better, physically immediately. Nicotine was good to him like that, but it didn't seem to be much aid in the emotional department.

  
Smoking never used to be Taylor’s thing, not until Beau started up. It relaxed him, helped relieved his ever growing stress and momentarily made him forget the person he so painfully lost.

  
If Taylor did leave, he wasn’t sure if he would even want to pursue another relationship. When you’ve been with the same person since you were sixteen, it was hard to imagine yourself with another person. No matter what he’s already been through with Beau or what they will go through in the future, there will never be a time where Taylor doesn't feel love for him.

  
Sometimes he’s afraid he’ll grow to resent Beau or maybe in some suppressed way, he already does.

  
He tried to imagine himself on a date with a normal person, in one of those fancy restaurants with butterflies in his stomach and sweaty palms. The thought of having to get to know someone all over again, all their likes, dislikes and quirks was frightening.  
So he tried to imagine kissing someone else’s lips. Someone whose lips weren't constantly chapped from compulsively licking them and someone who didn't have pointy sharp teeth that liked to bite down on his bottom lip so much. Someone who kissed him sweeter and with more meaning.

  
Then he tried to imagine fucking someone else, someone who wasn't shy about their naked body no matter how much he told them how perfect it was. Someone who could stay in the moment for more than ten seconds, and maybe someone who was louder and refused to let him do all the work.

  
All these things were supposed to sound nice but it wasn't quite connecting.

  
“We can share.” Beau told him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed ahold of Taylor’s arm, swinging it over his knee and hugging onto it. He liked to do that. Taylor smiled wistfully, nodding and let him take a drag.

  
“Why do you feel confused?”

  
The corner of Beau’s eyes crinkled and he chuckled nervously like he was being put on the spot. “I don’t know...I don't…”

  
Taylor finished the rest his cigarette in a couple of minutes and Beau was back to staring blankly at his hands.

  
“I don’t...I feel uncomfortable. Someone might be trying to shoot us.”

  
Taylor put his cigarette out and guided Beau back inside with his hand on the small of his back, “Do you want cinnamon on your toast?”

  
Beau filled a glass of water up for himself. “Yes, please.” He drank the water slowly and spit his last gulp back into the sink. “ _Now they can't. It won't poison me_.”

  
“Come here,” Taylor said, putting the toast on a paper towel and setting it down in the table. “Eat.”

  
“I have different hands. They didn't used to be like this.” Beau told him while chewing with his mouth open.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
He shrugged, looking distractedly at a spot above Taylor’s head. “I don't...it changed. I’m fucking pissed…” a pause. “because I don't know when.” The tone of his voice twisting into tight and agitated sounding.

  
“Okay.” Was all Taylor told him. Beau wasn't even paying attention anymore. His face was expressionless while he ate and every few seconds he would glance over his shoulder but he couldn't help it.

  
“Relax, you’re okay Beau.”

  
When he was finished eating, he slumped over and resting his head on the table. A bread crumb stuck to his cheek. “I’m so tired of being like this.”

  
Taylor didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything. Instead he balled up his napkin and threw it in the trash.

  
Beau wanted to go back to bed, so they spent the rest of the day watching TV. Well Taylor was watching TV, Beau was occupying himself by lacing their hands together over and over, studying the shape of both of their hands, together.

  
There was nothing else to do, Beau couldn't go outside so he couldn't take him anywhere. He could clean around the house but he didn't feel like it anymore. They were fine right here as they were.

  
“Taylor, are you mad at me?” Beau whispered and for a minute it sounded clear; steady and it almost sounded like a mockery of him constantly asking.

  
“No.” he whispered back.

  
Beau took a break from staring at their hands to bury his head in his chest and inhaling deeply. “You can tell me if you are.”

  
“I'm not. I promise.” Taylor paused for a second before speaking again, “I can't ever be mad at you, really.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last installment, more of a lighter, fluffier kinda thing. 
> 
> anyway, back to my you series...

What was interesting about working in retail was that you got to see how people truly are disconnected from reality. Maybe not in the way he was used to, but in the way where so many people were absolutely convinced their needs were to be met before anyone else's.

  
“This is ridiculous, I’ve been here for thirty minutes now and what your basically telling me is you don't stand by your company?”

  
Taylor stared at the woman. Her long dark brown hair framed her distressed face well. She must’ve been in her mid 20’s, probably still in school. He wondered how that was going for her.

  
“I’m telling you, we can’t take this item back because you are well over the 30 day return period.”

  
The woman sighed and rolled her eyes exasperatedly, “I’m only seven days out of the warranty, aren't you the manager? Can't you just make an exception?”

  
He could. Taylor could feel the cashier’s eyes on him, nervously. But he wasn't going to let this woman win because that wasn't how life works. No one was supposed to get their way all the time. He sure knew that. “No exceptions.”

  
She scoffed. Taylor sighed. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Miss.”

  
***

  
It was nearing four pm and Taylor could finally leave. It was raining again, not hard. More like a light sprinkling that barely dampened the ground. He sat in his car for a minute before calling Bethany. It rang two full times before she picked up.

  
“Hey, what’s up?” She greeted, it sounded cheery. Hopefully that meant it had been a good day.

  
“Hey,” Taylor said back, “Did you end up making anything for dinner?”

  
She sighed, “Oh shit...no I didn't. We’ve been in town all day and just got back an hour ago. He didn't say anything about it so I sort of forgot.”

  
“That’s fine, I was thinking about picking something up anyway so I’m just gonna do that. You guys were in town all day? Wow.”

  
“I know,” Bethany chuckled lightly, “He needed the fresh air.”

  
Taylor fiddled with the heater, turning it on and off a few times. “Good. Alright. I’ll be home soon, so I’ll see ya.” he told her. There was a shuffle on the other line, “Kay, bye.”

  
Taylor stopped by their favorite Chinese restaurant and got take out. He decided to order an extra carton of the veggie eggrolls and potstickers just because. They didn't eat out much because it got expensive, but when they did, he liked to go all out.

  
By the time he pulled into the driveway, it was five- thirty two and the rain was on and off now. He carefully gathered the two plastic bags in one hand and pushed the door open with the other. There was a certain smell that lingered in their home. Not bad, but just a distinct scent of stale cigarettes and frigid air.

  
Maybe he only noticed it because he lived here but it was imprinted into his brain to connect this particular scent to home and it was the most comforting thing about first walking in through the door after a long day of work.

  
Bethany was sitting on the floor, laptop perched on the coffee table and she typing away furiously. She had the wonderful option of working from home on the days she could get away from the office, which worked out for him. “Hey, need help with all that?” she asked without looking up.

  
Taylor smiled, “No, it’s okay. You look too busy.” Her mouth quirked up into a smirk and went back to typing, the glare from the screen reflecting onto her reading glasses.

  
He set the bags on the kitchen table, ignoring the new scratch carved into it that wasn't there before and headed into the bedroom. Beau was laying down on his stomach with his pencil loosely being twirled between his fingers as he stared down at his sketchbook.

  
Beau looked up when he shut the door and there was a red crease on his temple from where he was resting his head on with his fist. “Hi.”

  
Taylor sat down on the corner of the bed next to him, bringing his hand up to rub his back. “Hi, sweetheart.” Like a little kid, Beau ducked his head from the name and made a noise in the back of his throat. “I brought dinner, come eat.”

  
“Okay.” he agreed but made no move to get up. “I heard you were in town all day. Where’d you guys go?” Taylor asked.

  
Beau set his pencil and sketchbook aside, he was working on a little doodle of an elf. Before answering, he looked around the room, distractedly. “We went...oh my sister brought me coffee and she got me like...” He paused and Taylor was now tracing circles on his shoulder blade. “Umm, and I wanted to go to the park because there was a dog. I wanted to go to see the dog.”

  
“What kind of dog?” he asked. Beau had always liked animals.

  
“He was cute. I could have petted him but his owner is always trying to call the police on me.”

  
Taylor’s stomach growled reminding him of the lack of food in his system. “Are you hungry? Let’s go eat.”  
He watched Beau roll onto his side, “I didn't eat a lot today.”

  
“Come on.” He pulled on Beau’s elbow until he got up off the bed. The mismatched blankets they slept with were surprisingly smoothed out neatly and he didn't remember doing that this morning. “Did you make the bed?”

  
Beau stood in front of where Taylor was still sitting, and he was wearing those cargo shorts again. He hoped Beth made him change into pants before leaving. Beau leaned in, resting his hands on Taylor's shoulders and zoned in on the pillows, unfocused. “Well I had to, I don't want us to get bed bugs.”

  
Taylor laughed a little, bracing himself for the weight Beau was putting on him. “Thank you for doing that.”

  
This time Beau actually smiled at the praise. Taylor should be doing that more often, he didn't get to see that genuine smile enough.

  
Taylor loosened his tie enough to slip it over his head and Beau flung it towards the closet that was wide open because he liked to make sure no one was hiding in there.

  
Before going back out there to eat, Taylor stood up and leaned into him, slowly though just in case Beau didn't want it and kissed the highest point of his cheekbone. And Beau moved his head back to give him an actual kiss on the lips that he took his time with and Taylor drank in every second of it because he was finally home.

  
Beau made another sound in the back of his throat, a mewling sound that he recognized all too well and Taylor pulled back with a chuckle. “Your sister’s still here, come on.”

  
He threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled Beau in close, guiding him into the kitchen. “Well look who it is. You went straight to the bedroom the second we got home.” Bethany said, closing her laptop and taking her glasses off.

  
“Are you mad?” Beau asked, pulling one of the bags open as he waited for Taylor to bring them plates. Bethany shook her head and smiled at him, “Not at all, I was glad I could get some work done.”

  
He averted his eyes from hers and casually waved his hand, “I was busy.”

  
“Okay well, I think I’m gonna take off now. Is it still raining?”

  
Taylor glanced out the kitchen window quickly, “No. You want take some food home? There’s plenty.”

  
“Ahh, no thanks. I’m on a no-greasy noodle diet.” She laughed, putting her coat on and patted Beau on the shoulder a few times, “Thanks for coming out with me bud, you were really good today.”

  
Beau nodded and proceeded to arrange three eggrolls in a line on his plate. Taylor gave her a quick hug, “See you next week.”

  
“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  
She said that every time she came over and even if he wasn't going to because she already did so much, Taylor still appreciated the option. “I will.”

  
Beau was always quiet while he ate. Taylor didn't mind, it gave him time to clear his head and relax himself. He liked the moments- and thought Beau did too, when they were able to just sit in silence together and eat. Sometimes he read the newspaper and felt like his father while Beau played with his food. From time to time, the hushed whisper or burst of laugh would come out. And sometimes, Beau even asked him about his day, like right now.

  
“It was...alright, I guess. Nothing too out of the ordinary happened.” Taylor said.

  
Beau picked up a noodle that fell off his fork and onto the table, putting it back on his fork. “Oh.” he said while chewing.

  
That reminded him. “Did you do that?” He gestured to the deep, carved out scratch next to Beau’s plate.

  
“What?”

  
Taylor actually pointed to it this time, “That.” and Beau stared at it for a second, a grin beginning on his lips. “Yeah.”

  
“Why did you do it?”

  
Beau shrugged, “It’s just that…” he trailed off and glanced over his shoulder before jumping a little in his seat with a sudden burst of energy. “Oh sorry, it’s because I was a little angry for a second but I’m fine now...you’re not mad, are you?”

  
“No, but I wish you wouldn't have done that. Try not to ruin any more furniture, okay?” Taylor said lightly. Beau squirmed in his seat, “ _Taylor_.”

  
They finished eating in easy silence. The sound of rain hitting the roof was familiar and even though they didn't have heat, it made it feel cozy. “Can we watch a movie? In black and white, please.”

  
“Sure, if we can find one on TV. But you have to take a shower first, it’s been days now.”

  
Beau lifted a leg up to sit on and rested his elbows on the table, “Can I have some of your drink?”

  
He didn't really like Beau drinking alcohol because he was already smoked so much but it was only beer and he didn't do it very often. “Yeah.” he said.   
Beau reached for the bottle and took a couple of small sips. “Ugh, I _hate_ beer. Don't you think it tastes gross?”

  
Taylor watched him make a face, and still take another sip. “How come you don’t get that apple stuff? I like it.”

  
“That’s not beer, that’s hard cider and I didn't know you liked it.”

  
Beau nodded, stabbing his last eggroll with his fork and taking a bite. “I think I would like it.”

  
“Okay, next time I go shopping, I’ll try to get some.” he assured. Beau chewed for a long time, seemingly out of it. “Not the ones with poison apples.”

  
A couple minutes later, he pushed his plate away and looked at Taylor expectantly. “I can shower now.”   
  
***

  
It was always while taking a shower where he heard the voices the most and once in awhile, he seemed to not mind it and became really talkative. Whenever Beau was in a happy state like this and talking back, Taylor liked to listen because like everything else, it wasn't always bad. Sometimes it even made Taylor laugh from the random stuff Beau would say.

  
He was sitting on the toilet, with the seat down and the steam coming from the shower was starting to fog the mirror up. Beau always wanted to keep the shower curtain open whenever Taylor wasn't actually in there with him but Taylor had to remind him every time that water would get all over the floor if they didn't keep it shut.

  
So they kept it halfway open and threw a towel down where it would eventually get soaked.

  
_“At the 7-11 next to the gas station…”_

_  
“I would if I didn't have to get clean everyday, I would.”_

_  
“...even if I did, I don't think she’ll come around…”_

  
Were some of the things Taylor could make out over the noise of the water. Beau poked his head out, “Do you hear that?”

  
“What?”

  
Beau stayed still for a minute, “Nevermind.”

  
“You’re okay.” he told him. Beau shook his head, “No, a bird might have just been in here. But you wouldn't let a bird in here.”

  
Taylor laughed, “No, I wouldn't. Are you almost done?”

  
“I’m done.”

  
He stood up, pulling the curtain all the way back only to see there were still suds of soap on his body. Taylor reached for the extending showerhead, taking it out of it’s holder and running the water over the spots Beau missed. “Sorry.”

  
Beau put his hand on Taylor’s arm, holding onto it. The water seeped through his sleeve. “It’s okay.”

  
After he was done, Taylor went into the bedroom to change. He brought his half empty beer with him and set it on the dresser, flipping the TV on.

  
Beau stepped out of the bathroom, still dripping wet as he scrubbed a towel over his face and hair before wrapping it around his waist, shivering from the chill. “It’s cold.” he acknowledged.

  
“Put some clothes on.” Taylor suggested, picking out a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt out for himself. He was unbuttoning his dress shirt when Beau sat on the bed, watching him. “I hope there’s an old movie on for us to watch.” he smiled.

  
Taylor paused while in the midst of changing, remembering to flip through the channels. “Let’s see…” and Beau held out his hand for the controller, “I can do it.”

  
He tossed the remote onto the bed so he could finish pulling his slacks off, almost losing his balance. Beau laughed, sudden and loud like another quick burst of energy.

  
Finally settling on a channel, Beau ripped the towel off himself and threw it carelessly on the floor, still lying spread out on his back horizontally and he had goosebumps all over his arms.

  
Taylor grabbed his beer and went to lie down next to him, propping himself up on an elbow and taking a drink.

  
“I can have the rest.” Beau said and Taylor raised his eyebrows, holding it out for him. “Sit up first.”

  
Beau sighed exaggeratedly, “I’ll choke if I drink it lying down.” He rolled over on his side, grabbing Taylor’s arm and slinging it over his side. Beau stared at a spot on Taylor’s neck, tracing his fingertips over it.

  
Taylor finished the rest of his beer in one gulp and reach out to set it down on the floor, not caring if it toppled over as it was empty anyways. Beau pulled him back so that he was in facing of him again.

  
Beau was staring at him again, just looking. It was almost sweet, so Taylor leaned in to give him a kiss.

  
It took a second for Beau to kiss back, but when he did, he immediately opened his mouth to bite at Taylor’s bottom lip.

  
Taylor smiled into it, letting him continue biting. Beau never bit down too hard, and if he did it was never intentional. After a few moments, Taylor pulled away and gently guided Beau back down so that he was lying flat. He nosed against his jaw for a second, pressing featherlight kisses to the skin there and down to the side of his neck.

  
Beau kept still, his hands were lying at his sides, unmoving. Taylor cupped his cheek, “Okay?”

  
He nodded, bringing his hand up to back of Taylor’s head. “You can do it.” he whispered. Taylor went back to kissing his neck, with a little more intent now. Beau’s heart rate picked up.

  
Taylor moved back up to kiss his lips, while lifting himself to settle on top of him, Beau’s legs spread apart wantonly. He grinned to himself because Beau was starting to get hard, it didn't ever take much.

  
He pressed his thigh in between Beau’s legs and listened to how his breath hitched. Taylor pulled back to check his reaction, Beau was breathing heavier now, skin flushed a shade of pink that ran all the way down his neck.

  
Taylor ran a hand down his chest and rocked against him a few times, licking into his already open mouth. Beau was clinging onto his shirt, pulling on it so Taylor hauled it off.

  
Beau was staring at him like he always did, unblinking but he looked like he was there- present. He ran both his hands down the sides of Taylor’s shoulders, waiting for him to go on.

  
When they did this, Beau was as submissive as they came. He sat back, let Taylor decide on what they were going to do, what pace they were going at. Beau let Taylor take or give whatever he wanted.

  
And Taylor liked it that way, though he didn't always. In the past, he’s gotten frustrated with having nothing to push back onto. Sometimes, he still thought it would be nice if Beau could do something other than just lie there but Beau had completely lost any desire for dominance. Taylor had to learn to be okay with that.

  
Beau was completely hard now, and he was panting a little. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to touch himself but didn't. He never did, always waited for Taylor.

  
Taylor stood up, to pull his sweats off. He could feel his own heart rate pick up, the last time they’d done anything was a few weeks ago so he was slightly on edge. He allowed himself to gaze over Beau’s normally pale skin, it was now a flustering red shade and he thought about how lean Beau was, it was almost on the lanky side with his long stretch of limbs.

  
Beau made that same mewling sound from earlier, making Taylor climb back on the bed to kiss him again. Soft, and slowly because he wanted to make this enjoyable for Beau too.

  
When he finally wrapped a hand around him, Beau let out a silent exhale, tipping his head back so Taylor could get his mouth back on his neck.

  
Taylor held him in his hand for a second, focusing on rubbing his thumb over the tip until Beau kicked his leg out to the side, repeatedly. As if that was his way of letting Taylor know he could continue. He started to jerk Beau off, with a tight grip and in fast strokes.

  
The only sound in the room, was the sound of skin on skin and the occasional high pitched whine from Beau. Once Taylor was starting to leak himself, he slowed down his strokes. Beau choked a little in his spit. “You okay?” Beau nodded impatiently and curled a leg around the back of Taylor’s calf.

  
“Put your hands on my head.” Taylor told him.

  
Again, Beau nodded. Taylor ran his hand down his chest, lightly scratching and moved down so that he was level to his cock. As soon as he got his mouth on it, Beau titled his head back, exposing the green-blue veins in his throat and let out a breathy groan.

 

  
Generally, he didn't go down in him a lot, but knew it wouldn't take long to get Beau off this way.

  
Taylor bobbed his head quickly and steady, making sure to hollow his cheeks. When he pulled off, there was an audible slick popping sound. He tapped on Beau’s collarbone to get his attention, and smiled, making a show of going down again. He sucked hard, maybe it was a little too much for Beau because he yanked harshly on his hair. “Tay- _Taylor_...T-”

  
With a quiet moan, Beau came in his mouth. Taylor could have pulled off, but instead he stayed still, grimacing as he swallowed. It's definitely been awhile since he's done that. The grip Beau had on his hair, loosened. Taylor sat back up on his knees, straddling his stomach. He placed Beau’s hand on himself, urging Beau to get him off.

  
While Beau’s grip was a little too tight, it was still good and didn't take long for him to spill over the edge. They kissed for a couple more moments, after that. Beau was still catching his breath.

  
Taylor flopped on his back and the TV was still going on in the background. He didn't even realize until the recorded laughing of the audience made him jump a little.

  
Beau was looking at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. Taylor looked back at him, there was a little sweat on his forehead that he wanted to reach over and wipe off so he did and Beau let him.

  
“Tired?” he asked.

  
“Mmhm. You’re leaving the TV on, right? I can't sleep in the dark.”

  
Taylor kissed his shoulder, “I know, don't worry.”

  
He wanted nothing more just to go to sleep now, and he’ll have to wait for Beau to fall asleep to turn the TV off. But that's okay, he was used to it.

  
Beau lifted Taylor’s arm, bringing it around him so that Taylor was hugging him from behind. “I know you’ll protect me. That's why I love you. You protect me…”

  
“Try to get some rest, I’m right here.” Taylor told him and closed his own eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> you might have noticed some of the things beau says is not quite worded correctly and thats on purpose just sayin


End file.
